She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river. "The danger's past," whispered Bess. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. “I wish I didn’t swear. He’s got flowers. ” “Anything except that,” he murmured.
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